Disobedient Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4
Disobedient Cowboys
Rose Hartford is headed to her temporary nursing assignment when she swerves to avoid a wolf in the road and finds herself in the arms of a virile, naked man instead. She wakes up in the hospital with a concussion and her cowboy rescuer watching over her. Caleb is beyond gorgeous and stirs feelings she’s never known—until her equally magnificent doctor walks in and sends her vital signs soaring.
Stephen Williams and Caleb Green lead very different lives, yet they share a secret. Both are werewolves who recognize in the other their destined mate, and they want Rose in the middle of their erotic pack bond. When their offer involves a deeper commitment than she’s willing to give, she decides to leave town. To win her back, they must save her from more than her fear of surrender. An old enemy has returned to Shay Falls, seeking revenge.
Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves, Western/Cowboys
Length: 59,879 words
DISOBEDIENT COWBOYS
Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4
J. Rose Allister
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
DISOBEDIENT COWBOYS
Copyright © 2012 by J. Rose Allister
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-059-0
First E-book Publication: September 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DISOBEDIENT COWBOYS
Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4
J. ROSE ALLISTER
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
The presence of gray, threatening skies looming over the mountain road wasn’t the biggest worry on Rose’s mind as she pressed the accelerator pedal harder. She was late—damn late.
“And on my first day, too,” she said, grimacing as she glanced yet again at the dashboard clock.
Another curve slowed her progress. She sighed, wishing for a nice stretch of open freeway. A look in the mirror showed no one behind her, and a closer inspection revealed tiny strands of her burgundy hair already making a break from her carefully-woven French braid.
“Thanks, damp mountain air,” she said, smoothing back the frizzy tendrils rebelling around her face.
Her GPS, at least, looked a bit more promising than the clock or mirror. Only a few miles remained until she reached her destination, the latest stop in a series of short-term nursing gigs assigned by her agency. At least, it would be if she could manage to get to her latest assignment.
Thirteen weeks, then she would leave this place in her taillights and head for paradise.
How lucky was she? After two years of traveling from job to job across the continent, an assignment had finally come available in exotic Hawaii. The first thing she would do when she got there would be to head for the nearest waterfall and sketch it until her fingers refused to grip the pencil anymore.
A tiny smile lit her face at the thought as she shot another quick glance in the mirror. She’d just traveled two thousand miles, but her mind was already two thousand farther away as she imagined that the mountains rising around her were in the lush, green tropics she’d be reveling in by summer.
Life, however, could change plans in a heartbeat.
She was just coming off the curve when a blur of motion appeared on the highway in front of her. Frowning, she saw an animal racing into the road. It was a wolf, and moving at top speed. But not fast enough.
“Shit!” she cried out, jamming on the brakes. The horrific wail of brakes gritted her teeth. Then the car began to skid.
Her heart thundering frantically, Rose gripped the wheel hard and tried to right the vehicle’s path. The grayish-brown animal actually paused in the middle of the road, apparently frozen in shock at the sight of the car headed straight for it. The wolf looked right at her, and then it sprang forward again. But it was too late.
She turned the wheel hard, hoping to veer around the poor creature as it tried to run, but she heard—and felt—the bump of impact. The much bigger problem, she realized, was that she was headed off the road. The entire thing happened in mere seconds, and before she knew it, the landscape and odd images of her life were flashing before her as the sedan left pavement. Tires threw dirt and rocks mercilessly into the air before something much more frightening loomed in front of her.
“Oh, Jesus,” was all she managed to get out, and she braced for impact.
The pine tree was massive, and she was barely slowing down by the time her right front fender approached it. The crash was violent and jarring, and her view of it was obliterated by the giant pop of her airbag shooting out. She slammed forward in her seatbelt then immediately back against the headrest as the airbag hit her in the face. A fine cloud of something powdery exploded out with it.
Then all was still.
Life ground t
o a halt for a short stretch even though she was still conscious. Her mind went blank as she sat there, only vaguely aware of the airbag self-deflating. She coughed at the cloudy mist surrounding her, but even the ominous sound of steam escaping from her engine failed to rouse her to the full weight of her predicament.
A sharp banging on her window jerked her back to reality. Pain jabbed through her neck and head as she whipped around to see a man outside, bent over her window as he stared in at her. The most amazing violet eyes, possessed by some kind of golden haze in their depths, gleamed out from a wild, panicked expression.
“Are you all right?” he was shouting through the window.
She nodded numbly. Mutely.
The man grabbed her door handle and yanked on it a few times. “Can you unlock the door?”
The door. Right. Maybe she should get out. What if the car caught fire?
Still, she just sat there in a daze until two startling facts about the man sank in. One, he was completely and rather magnificently naked. Two, he was bleeding in several places, most notably from an ugly hole in his upper chest.
“Oh, God!” she cried. She’d been so worried about not hitting the wolf that she hadn’t even realized there’d been a man there, too.
Adrenaline surged into her system, and from somewhere in the back of her fuzzy mind, her nurse training kicked in. The man was hurt. She had to help him.
“Hang on,” she said, and she fumbled for the door.
She half staggered out, feeling herself rise onto her feet. It was a curious sensation, considering her legs didn’t seem to be working at the moment. Then she realized the man had a hold on her. For a brief moment, the feel of being in his arms was so welcome, so right, that she forgot herself and wrapped her arms around his warm, hard flesh.
Damp mist sprinkled them both, the precursor to a rainstorm the radio had said would hit the mountain. It mingled with the smoke coming off her engine, and the fresh scent of rain lost out to the acrid smell. She’d ruined the pure, pine fragrance of the mountains, too, with the rubber she’d burned with her brakes. Not a very auspicious start to her time in Shay Falls.
“Let’s lay you down,” the man said, and she caught the delightfully unmistakable twang. This was cowboy country she was in, right? Well, saddle me up, she thought.
When he tried to tug her down, however, she shook her head. She was sorry for the motion when the world refused to stop spinning afterward. Another round of coughing spasms shook her, sending sharp stabs of pain through her pounding head. She slapped at her chest with her palm, trying to break up the congestion suddenly brewing in her lungs. She flinched at the blow. The seatbelt that had yanked her violently into place felt like it was still against her sore chest.
“Let me help you,” he said, but she shook her head again.
“You’re the one who needs help,” she told him. She glanced around and pointed at a large, flat rock nearby. “Sit down over there so I can stop the bleeding.”
She tried to pull him that direction, but he resisted. Her vision of him when she turned back was somewhat out of focus, but he was gorgeous nonetheless. He was tall compared to her five foot seven, but not by a discouraging span. Despite the dirt and blood on him, she’d never seen anything quite so beautiful as his sculpted body, angular face, and concerned, touching expression.
“Ma’am,” he said firmly, “I don’t need you to do that.”
“It’s okay. I’m a registered nurse.” She pointed to the fitted, blue scrubs she wore. “See?”
“No, it ain’t okay. You’re hurt, too.” To prove the point, he reached out to her face, which was stinging and hot now that she thought about it. Still, his gesture was what had her attention, a motion she saw in a disjointed sort of slow motion. His touch was as tender as a lover’s would be, and it sent a funny pang through her. He came away and showed her his fingers, which were dotted with blood.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m fine.” The world reeled around her, though, and she clutched at him for support. “Just a little dizzy.”
His chest muscles flexed as his arms went around her again, and she noticed his wince of pain. Still seeing double, she tried to focus on the task at hand. A closer look at his chest injury made her frown hard. It didn’t look like an impact injury. In fact, she didn’t think it was from the accident at all.
“Is that a gunshot wound?” she asked, seeing speckles creeping in from around the outer edges of her blurry vision.
“That don’t matter right now.”
“Of course it matters. Let me look at it. It’s my job.” The words sent a gasp from her, even though her head was growing much lighter and it was getting tougher to stand. “My job! I forgot. I’m late for work.”
That was the last thing she remembered before she teetered forward, collapsing straight into his arms as she passed out.
Chapter Two
The morning after Rose’s twenty-first birthday, she woke up to the first and only hangover of her life. What she woke up to this time was worse.
The remnants of a pleasant, recurring dream faded, taking away the soothing whoosh of a waterfall and smile of the faceless man. She was left with a headache that beat at her skull too hard for her to even groan. As soon as she flinched, pain shot through her neck and most every muscle she possessed. She felt like she’d been hit by a car. And as dim, blurry memories emerged through the murky surface of her brain, she realized she wasn’t far from wrong.
The accident! She’d hit a wolf, and more importantly, a man. She hadn’t even helped him. Was he all right? Damn, had she blacked out in the middle of trying to render him aid, leaving him to die?
Her eyes flew open at that, and when the sharp edge of pain in her skull eased up a bit, she glanced around slowly. She wasn’t outside anymore. She was lying in a strange yet oddly familiar room. The scents and sounds were like a second home, even if the cool, blue-white walls, ceiling-mounted television, and sterile furnishings didn’t register in precise memory.
She was in a hospital.
Turning her head slowly to glance beside her, she confirmed her location by spotting a bedside curtain and an IV pole. Her clinical mind kicked in as she watched Lactated Ringer’s solution drip at a fair pace through clear tubing. The digital pump controlling the rate was programmed to release eighty ccs per hour. Regardless of being hydrated this way, her lips and throat felt dry, and the latter was a little scratchy to boot. She reached up to feel around her chest, which was throbbing and tender. Electrodes were pasted beneath her collarbones. Not enough equipment was attached to her to suggest intensive care, so she wasn’t too bad off. Still, as she tried telling that to her body, it rebelled at every eye blink and twitch.
A chair had been pulled up close beside her bed, and sitting on the blue-upholstered seat was a weathered, brown Stetson. Western decor in a cowboy town wasn’t necessarily an alarming discovery, but on a chair seat?
When she turned her head again, she sucked in a little breath. She wasn’t alone in her private room after all. A man stood at the sole window, staring out at a sunny morning with his hands propped on lean hips. As her gaze traveled over the powerful lines of his back, she knew exactly who he was. The thought made her heart give a little skip.
“Hi,” she managed, her voice coming out a little hoarse.
He spun around from the window. A smile lit up the scowl he’d turned with, starting a much more pleasant throb in her body.
“Rose!” he said, heading toward her. “You’re awake.”
“You know my name?”
“I found your driver’s license in your wallet. I’m Caleb, by the way. Caleb Green.”
“Nice to meet you,” she stammered, wondering whether “nice” was the right word to use when an introduction involved ramming someone with a car.
Wow, the man was even more handsome when she wasn’t seeing him in shades of blurry gray. His hair was a rich, chocolate brown, worn longer in the front and trimmed close in back. His
bangs were swept to the side over his forehead, framing amazing violet eyes. His snap-front denim shirt was open just enough to display a tantalizing hint of chest hair. His jeans were oh-so snug over taut thighs, not to mention a crotch bulge he almost caught her staring at.
She detached herself from his sex appeal to conduct a clinical assessment of how he moved, checking for any limps, favored limbs, or grimacing that would indicate how badly he’d been hurt. But he strode with purposeful, lithe boot steps, focused completely on her. She felt heat flush into her cheeks and wondered whether a fever was setting in.
“I’m so sorry I hit you,” she said, clearing her throat to try and get some volume back. A stale, medicinal taste lingered in the back of her mouth. “I swerved to avoid an animal in the road, and I guess you must have been right there.”
“Yeah, I suppose you could say I had a front row seat,” he said, picking up his hat and setting it in his lap as he sat down beside her. His scent was very manly and smelled faintly of shaving soap. She swallowed as he took her hand. His was incredibly warm and strong. “It was my fault. I should have been watchin’ where I was goin’. How are you feelin’?”
His cowboy twang twisted nicely in her stomach.
“Like I was in a car accident. But I don’t think I’m done for just yet.”
“The doc said you were real lucky. You hit your head and got a bit concussed. Bruised, too. And the airbag scratched up your face a bit. But no broken bones or nothin’.”
Her other hand flew to her face. No bandages, but a sticky smear over one cheek suggested some kind of ointment had been applied to her abrasions.